There is a place I like to go
to sit and try to dream
when part of life has lost its glow
and lowered my esteem
down to a point that makes me feel
I should have offered more
and that is why I look to dreams
for what I’m looking for.
And where’s this place I journey to
to sit and gaze in stare;
perchance to stumble on a view
and catch it in my snare;
catching dreams that float around
when everything is still
in a place that’s like a whim
and only lasts until….
I waken to a soothing breeze
and wrinkles ‘cross the stream;
whispering notions in the leaves
I know it’s not a dream?
And I feel much better than I did
although I can’t explain
but I know, you know this place, like me
where refreshing soothes the pain.
Your place might be a comfy chair
or maybe in your bed
or beneath a tree in the city square
or on the road that’s up ahead.
But mine is usually by the stream
that meanders among the trees
where solace found, stills my heart;
and life’s again, at ease.
© copyright 2013 t. j. gargano